


Galway

by SarcasticSmiler



Series: On the drive to work song fics (Star Wars edition) [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-21 12:05:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11357148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarcasticSmiler/pseuds/SarcasticSmiler
Summary: She played the fiddle in an Irish bandBut she fell in love with an English manA Kylux fic inspired from hearing Ed Sheeran's damned 'Galway Girl' on the radio one too many times.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably going to be extremely ooc, but just go with it...please?

Kylo groaned in misery, curled up as much as he could in the back seat of Rey’s old mini.

“You alright there, Kylo?” Poe asked, glancing at him in the rear-view mirror.

“Yeah, you’re still looking a little green,” Rey added, leaning over from where she sat next to him to poke at his cheek.

“Fuck off,” he grumbled, swatting at his cousin’s hand as his stomach continued to roll.

“Leave off guys,” Finn frowned and Kylo could’ve kissed him. “Try and get some sleep, Kylo, it’ll help.”

Kylo grunted his thanks, shoved his crumpled up black hoodie between his head and the window, closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

He blamed his current miserable state on Rey.

Ever since she’d turned 18 all she wanted to do was travel, but their parents didn’t trust the world enough to let her go on her own.

Their apparent solution to that was to make him go with her. Even though Finn had offered to go, which meant _Poe_ had to go. Which mean they were _all_ stuck in Rey’s beat up old mini, a car that _clearly_ wasn’t designed for someone of his height.

The trip so far had been absolutely awful.

He had prepared himself for the six hours it’d likely take to get from London to Holyhead.

What he hadn’t prepared for was Rey’s ridiculous need to deviate from the planned route.

He had now climbed more bits of Welsh mountains than he ever wanted to in his entire life.

And if he never saw or took another picture of that fucking Llanfair-what-ever-the-fuck place sign again, it’d only be too soon.

By the time they’d _finally_ reached Holyhead the weather had changed, meaning they had to traverse a rather rough sea to get to Dublin.

Kylo didn’t think he suffered from sea sickness.

The ferry did its best to prove him wrong.

And now here he was, still queasy, with his face smushed into his balled-up hoodie, and trying to block out the sound of the other three singing, badly, to the radio as they drove through the Irish countryside on their way to Galway.

He didn’t know where Galway was.

He didn’t know _why_ they were going there.

The only explanation given to him was Rey throwing a duffle bag at him while saying, “Pack up, Crylo, we’re going to Ireland!”

All he knew for sure was the roiling in his gut and the general lingering despair that this trip was going to be awful.

-x-

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'know I tried not to write this, I really did. But it kept tugging at my mind, and thinking about it while I was waiting for the traffic lights to change made me smile so I've resigned myself to getting it written down just to be rid of it.  
> Technically this could've been a one shot, but I've decided to do it in two hits.  
> First miserable Kylo.  
> Second proving Kylo's pessimism wrong.
> 
> The 'Llanfair-what-ever-the-fuck' mentioned is Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch, and its train station sign is sooo long.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and kudos!  
> I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks of these two idiots when they hear this song.
> 
> The First Order people are all Irish, don't question, just go with it...please?

“Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey,” Rey sing-songed, shaking his shoulder.

“F-koff,” Kylo slurred, clumsily swatting at her.

“Wake uuupp. We’re here!”

Giving in to her insistent tugging, Kylo groaned and practically fell out of the car.

“Where exactly _is_ ‘here’?” he yawned, stumbling forward on stiff legs like a new born foal.

“Home for the next few days,” Finn shrugged as he helped Poe drag their bags from the boot.

With slightly hazy eyes, Kylo squinted at the hotel before him. He could admit, albeit reluctantly, that his cousin seemed to have done a good job. The place looked better than he thought it would for the price he knew they’d paid.

“Come on,” Rey urged, fingers tight around her bag strap. “The quicker we check in, the quicker we can go explore.”

“You just want to go to a pub and flash your ID,” Kylo accused, following her into the building.

-x-

It took over an hour for them to book in, settle into their rooms, and change before they were ready to head out.

Finn and Rey practically skipped as they headed in the direction the hotel’s receptionist had pointed them in, their hands tightly clasped.

Kylo walked next to Poe, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie as he matched Poe's shorter, easy going stride.

“Do they actually know where they’re going?” he asked.

“Rey googled it while you were busy faffing with your hair,” Poe shrugged. “There’s a bar close by that’s got live music playing tonight.”

“I think it’s down here,” Rey said, squinting at a street sign as her head cocked slightly at the faint sound of music in the air. “Does that sound like Irish music to you?”

“It’s music in Ireland, I think that counts as Irish music,” Kylo muttered, earning himself a glare and solid thump to the arm.

“Don’t be an arse,” Rey glared, tapping his nose like a disobedient puppy.

Kylo just rolled his eyes, letting loose a put-upon sigh as he gestured for them to carry on walking.

The closer they got to the bar, the more Kylo’s heart seemed to speed up, trying to match the beat of the music. The fast-paced fiddle he could hear made his body want to move, it wrapped around him and tugged at stubborn limbs.

Pushing open the doors they were hit with a wall of warmth, joy, and music.

Rey and Finn instantly began winding their way to the bar, Poe following at a more leisurely pace.

Kylo looked to the small stage in the corner and felt the world shift around him for a moment.

He couldn’t help but stop and stare, eyes wide and jaw loosening. His heart pounded in his chest and a slight flush crept into his cheeks.

He was beautiful.

Like a living flame.

Bright and warm and joyous.

Body flickering to the music as his fingers and bow flew over the fiddle.

Kylo startled when small fingers wrapped around his wrist and tugged.

Not taking his eyes from the fiddling red head, he let Rey lead him to the bar, a pint of what was likely Guinness waiting from him by Poe's elbow.

“Oh my god, they’re so good!” Rey yelled already bouncing to the beat. “What’s she playing?”

Tearing his eyes from the fiddler with some difficulty, Kylo looked at the rest of the little band.

A dark-haired man played a guitar, while a _ridiculously_ tall blonde woman played a bodhrán.

“A tambourine without the cymbals,” Kylo answered in a scoffing ‘I-know-everything’ tone.

Finn promptly spat his mouthful of Guinness back into the glass with a choked off laugh.

“Don’t listen to him,” Poe said, smacking the back of Kylo’s head, earning himself an indignant _Hey!_ “It’s a bodhrán.”

 “Oh, her hands move _really_ fast,” Rey said, almost dreamily.

“What?” Kylo looked down at his little cousin, confused for a moment before realisation hit him like a smack to the face. “Oh, oh _ew_ no, nope not going there.”

“From the man practically drooling over ginger boy up there,” Rey shot back, eyebrow quirked in mocking accusation.

“I’m allowed to, you’re still an innocent child,” Kylo shot back.

“I’m eighteen!” Rey squeaked.

“You’re _both_ children!” Poe growled, dragging the cousins apart to sit on the stools either side of him. “Now shut up, drink your pints, and listen!”

Kylo thought about pouting for a moment, but then his eyes were caught by a flourishing movement and his attention was once more firmly fixed on the fiddler.

He watched sweat bead on pale, flushed skin, and a red fringe sway, odd strands sticking to a damp face.

He watched light eyes flash and gleam, and pale pink lips spread into a grin.

He was startled once again by Rey’s hand wrapping around his wrist and dragging him where she wanted to go.

“Come dance with me!”

He wanted to refuse her, just to be contrary.

But the music was calling to him.

His body _wanted_ to move.

Throwing his hoodie at Poe to look after, he followed Rey to the small dance floor before the stage where they spun, twirled, and stepped with the other dancers.

He couldn’t help glancing up when he felt eyes on him, only to find a slow, teasing smirk spreading on those pale pink lips as light eyes watched him dance.

The fiddler leaned forward slightly towards the dancers, eyes not leaving Kylo’s as he picked up the pace to the cheer of the crowd.

Kylo knew a challenge when he heard one.

With a grin lighting up his face, and a flush spreading over his cheeks, he led Rey into a faster dance. Her joyous laughter flowing along the notes of the fiddle.

The song finally finished with a flourish and boisterous round of applause and cheers.

“I need a bit of fresh air,” he said next to Rey’s ear so she could hear him over the next song starting up. Though this one lacked a fiddle, another man had jumped on stage with a tin whistle to play with the guitarist.

“Alright,” Rey called back, easily dancing off to find another partner.

Kylo glared at her new dance partner’s hands for a moment, checking they weren’t straying where they shouldn’t, before stumbling his way through the crowd and out the doors.

The cool evening air was soothing to his flushed skin.

“Quite the dancer, aren’t ya?”

Kylo’s head shot to the side, even as a shiver attempted to run down his spine at the Irish lilt.

“I…” Kylo stumbled when he met those eyes, tongue feeling too big for his mouth. “I suppose so?”

The red headed fiddler smirked around a cigarette, the burning tip reflecting in his eyes.

“D’you smoke?” he asked, plucking the cigarette from his lips with long, calloused fingers.

“Sometimes,” Kylo offered, eyes dropping to those lips as they wrapped around the filter once more. He swallowed, hard, as the smoke trailed out and curled around them before being swept away by the breeze.

“This is my last one,” the fiddler shrugged even as he offered it to Kylo. “But you’re welcome to have a drag if you’d like.”

“Thanks.”

Taking the cigarette, Kylo breathed it in, holding the smoke for a moment before slowly letting it pass through his lips and handing the cigarette back. He didn’t miss the way the fiddler’s eyes dropped to his mouth before flicking back up.

“I’m Hux,” he offered.

“Kylo.”

Hux smiled, head tilted to one side, eyes running over Kylo’s body, as he finished the last few drags of his cigarette.

The glint in his eye made Kylo re-evaluate his opinion about the trip.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

-x-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have listened to soo much Irish music for 'research' for this fic. I have a great need to see that spindly ginger play the fiddle now.
> 
> Remember when I said this'll be two chapters? Yeah...I lied. I reached a suitable-ish end to it and I've got to go to work soon so I thought I'd post it and think about the next part at work instead of thinking about faffing with this part.
> 
> In case you're wondering -  
> Phasma plays the bodhran  
> Mitaka plays the guitar  
> Thannison plays the tin whistle
> 
> Writing that last smoking part was rather hard, I tried to make it appealing but I don't know if I succeeded at all. I despise smoking, the smell makes me want to throw up, but it's a line in the song that gave me the excuse to get them both outside.


End file.
